


Unstoppable Force meets Immovable Object

by Rehlia



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Desperation, Drabble, M/M, Making Out, Prompt Fill, Suggestive Themes, Touch-Starved, Unexpected attraction, mentions of animal abuse, only as a comparison, touch starved Razz
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-20
Updated: 2017-11-20
Packaged: 2019-02-04 16:20:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12774816
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehlia/pseuds/Rehlia
Summary: Prompt: Sans is, honestly, a little intimidating to Razz. He can’t even say why exactly. There’s just something a little…off about him. But Razz isn’t going to let anyone ever guess he feels that way. So he makes it a point to antagonize Sans, only to find that it is almost impossible to get a rise out of him. The only way to manage it, really, is to target Papyrus. Even then, his reactions are incredibly unsatisfying. A glare. A brief crackle of magic. Otherwise, Sans is acting like he doesn’t even notice Razz’s behavior and that, that will not stand!So Razz takes drastic measures–and kisses Sans, determined to get a reaction, any reaction.(Or: things my mind comes up with at night after deciding that thinking about rarepairs is more important than sleep)





	Unstoppable Force meets Immovable Object

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady_Kit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Kit/gifts).



> Save me, I'm in rarepair hell...
> 
> I based this on Lady_Kits characterisations and headcanons in the Broken Bones Series.  
> Who's who: Sans = UT Sans  
> Razz = SF Sans  
> Paps = US Papyrus  
> Blue = US Sans  
> Edge = UF Papyrus  
> Red = UF Sans

Razz kissing him is the pinnacle of an ever-escalating accumulation of antagonising behaviour that has gone on for weeks despite Sans’ best efforts to stay calm. 

The thing is though, he doesn’t know what to _do_ with it; instead of the verbal jabs and low blows against his brother, this isn’t something Sans had in any way anticipated and so his first, involuntary reaction is a sharp gasp, which the other immediately takes advantage of by way of invading Sans’ mouth with his tongue. 

He has half a mind to snap his teeth shut and bite the offending appendage clean off, except… 

Except the deft, knowing glide of ectoplasmic flesh against his palate and the back of his teeth is doing things to Sans that he didn’t anticipate either. Couldn’t have anticipated, really, he had never been all that interested in romance. Sure, watching Paps and Edge dance around each other until they finally managed to sort themselves out had been hilarious, and then rather sweet when they got together. Even more so since Blue then was a part of it too, and hadn't that been a surprise? And sure, he takes an interest in what his brother gets up to with Red, just in order to make sure his brother isn’t taken advantage of. But for himself? Sans had never really seen the point, and the near-complete absence of genuine interest towards anyone had sold him on the idea that perhaps the whole sex and romance package just wasn’t meant for him. 

This though. 

_This_ sends a punch of heat straight to his pelvis out of fucking nowhere, a prickle of arousal that seems to make his bones hum with nerves and anticipation. 

Out of sheer shock (and absolutely nothing else) he lets a quiet moan escape past his teeth, straight against Razz’s tongue, whom he can feel grinning where their teeth are meeting. 

As if challenged, the other intensifies his efforts, wraps his tongue around the magical appendage in Sans’ own mouth and strokes it with more experience than anyone should be comfortable with, really, what has this guy been doing with his life, and when has Sans conjured a tongue anyway, what the hell. Razz is growling now, sending muted vibrations and hot breath into Sans’ mouth, who swallows the sounds and locks them away in his mind and his ribcage, like a magpie hoarding valuable shiny things to build a nest out of when nobody is looking. 

Razz presses himself closer, bringing their ribcages together underneath their shirts, grinding his leg against Sans’ pelvis, and Sans has enough. 

Screw this, he isn’t doing this, why is he even still standing there. 

Sans raises a hand to push Razz away, as he should have right from the start. His phalanges catch between the clavicle and the coracoid process, unintentionally stroking the sensitive underside of the other’s collarbone. 

A small moan is breathed into Sans’ mouth, and Razz’s movements slow down. 

When Sans opens his sockets (and when had he ever closed them?) he gets a front row seat to an expression he can barely begin to categorise. 

Surprise is there. Confusion. Fear and desperate, brutal _yearning_.

As if this never happened before. As if this is so out of the ordinary that there’s no other reaction possible. Like a dog who has been beaten so much and so hard that he doesn’t know how to take affection when it is finally offered. It’s a gaping chasm across the mask of ruthlessness and confidence the other usually wears, reminding Sans uncomfortably of his own smile used as a protection against everything and anything, reminding him that at the core, they are the same person no matter how much he wants to deny it. For the first time, he sees the hint of something utterly vulnerable in the cracks of a well-practised act that’s falling apart under, of all things, a single gentle stroke of a finger against a shoulder. 

Razz’s eyes fly open barely a second later and just like Sans can read him, Razz can read Sans right back. 

Can see the surprise and the revelation. 

The pity. 

Razz springs back immediately, drawing himself up like he’s in battle. Maybe he feels he is. 

“ _Fuck you_ ,” he snarls, and pushes Sans so hard that he stumbles over his own sock pile and falls, barely able to catch himself before he knocks his skull against his treadmill. With how spiteful Razz sounds, Sans is sure that might have actually killed him. 

The door slams and Razz is gone, leaving Sans on the floor. Breathing hard. Bones still humming with adrenaline and that unwelcome, delicious heat. 

Sans moves his hand up and consciously has to stop himself from moving it straight to his pelvis, has to force himself to drag it over his skull instead, the pressure grounding him at least a little. He feels unbalanced and uncomfortable and aroused and maybe, a little bit, as though he has something to fix because he surely can’t let this stand as it is now regardless of how much he thought he hated Razz for treating his brother so badly. 

That, that was a thing, he reminds himself, he hates Razz, that single moment just now isn’t enough to -

To...

“Shit,” he curses quietly.


End file.
